Food for the Soul
by aghamora
Summary: It's amazing how a simple quest for a hamburger can become so complicated. - - Oneshot.


She leans back against the pillows and exhales deeply. The feeling of accomplishment that usually accompanies sex for Santana isn't present this time. She hasn't really accomplished anything to be proud of. Finn is next to her, just sitting there with an extremely uncomfortable look on his features. She rolls her eyes in disgust as she pulls the covers off and climbs out of the rickety bed. The springs underneath had been a constant annoyance as she deflowered Finn, and they squeak as her weight is removed from the bed.

"You look like you just killed someone," she observes with a hint of a dark laugh in her voice. Finn looks up at her with sad eyes that both piss her off and amuse her, "I mean; it's just your virginity. Get over it. You should be glad it's gone." She begins to take off her clothing and put on the outfit that was discarded when they had pulled each other's clothes off minutes ago. Santana sees him look away as she strips down, and she chuckles in an almost seductive way, "Don't act like you haven't seen it all already." Santana raises an eyebrow when he shakes his head.

She takes an overly tight, navy blue shirt and throws it on before pulling on her jeans. He gets up and dresses quietly as she walks over to the mirror and fixes her dark hair. In the dim light, she can't see much, but she can see that Finn still looks incredibly nervous. And, of course, she can see that she looks stunning, as usual.

"You're still taking me to that burger joint," she doesn't take her eyes off her reflection while speaking. By now, he's fully dressed and making his way over to her. His anxiousness is spreading. It's getting on her last nerve. He sighs.

"Sure, whatever. Let's go." She takes one look at him and smirks when she sees his messy hair. She laughs humorlessly and struts over to where he stands with a hand placed coquettishly on her hip, blocking the door.

"You can't go out with sex hair like that," she tells him. He looks at her funny for a minute until speaking up.

"Sex…hair?" He looks totally and utterly stumped. Obviously he's never heard of it before. Thank God she's here to save him from the embarrassment of going out in public with a head of hair that practically screams '_I just got laid!_'

She shows him a real smile this time.

"Yeah. It's, like, totally obvious you just got done rolling around in the sheets." She waits impatiently while he (predictably) slicks his hair down with saliva. It doesn't do much good, only wetting down a few of the many straying hairs on his head. She makes a sound of frustration and proceeds to turn on the faucet he stands next to and wet her hands in the cool water. She put nearly all of the disobedient hairs down in their place. It is a peculiar scene; sort of something a mother would do to a child. She shrugs it off, thinking about how Finn's like a lost puppy and it's pretty easy to feel sorry for the poor guy's naivety.

"There. That won't last forever but…" She doesn't bother to finish her sentence, as she knows she's gotten her point across. She grabs the room key and walks out the door with Finn following behind her.

* * *

The lights in the motel's hallways are flickering wildly and giving the space a funhouse appearance. It's hard to walk straight, and she runs into Finn several times while making her way down the hall. She can hear rain pouring down heavily outside. The cheap, dirty carpet is making her new shoes cry. The only reason she picked this motel was because she didn't want to waste money getting a room at a fancy hotel just to take some stupid jock's virginity. The wind howls outside eerily the windowless hallway and makes her shudder involuntarily.

When the lights go out, Santana's not surprised it didn't happen earlier.

"Shit!" Given, the hallway is narrow and there aren't many things one can run into, but she still doesn't trust herself to avoid obstacles in the pitch black. She digs in her purse and struggles to use her cell phone as a flashlight until she remembers that she's left it at home so no one could call her as she slept with Finn. Her hand roams the purse for a few extra minutes before she gives up.

"Shit…" she mumbles under her breath. She really hates this motel.

Out of the blue, a bright and sudden light shines from beside her. She jumps slightly, and the abrupt glow makes her see dizzying spots. She glances over to see that Finn has found his phone and is using the bright screen to guide them.

"Thank God," she thanks God, but not Finn. She's not one to show anyone direct gratitude. She only thanks people when it's absolutely required, and even then, her gratitude is so unenthusiastic that no one believes it's genuine.

She follows him to the elevator and almost runs into him when he pauses at the elevator. He presses the button to summon the machine, but, unsurprisingly, it does not light up to signal its approach.

"The power's out, dumbass! Did you really think it was gonna work?" she hisses through the never ending shadows. She can't see Finn at the moment, for the light is not directed at him, but she's sure he's probably wearing his usual confused expression.

"Well, maybe they have an emergency power supply or something…" In a place like this? Like they'd bother.

She takes the makeshift flashlight from him and grabs his hand to lead him to the stairs. He doesn't object. Perhaps it's better for her to lead. The steps are their only option, even if it's a far from preferable way to get down to the ground level.

They walk for a few moments. The only sound is the stiff carpet below their feet making a scratching sort of noise as they cautiously step on it through the blackness. She feels like she's in some horror movie, like some kind of monster is going to jump out and kill her any second now. She is, after all, hot enough to be cast in one of those things.

Santana tries not to think about her crippling fear of the dark that she had when she was a small child. She's overcome it since then, but she's always been kind of jumpy in the night.

Eventually, the pair gets to the stairs and begins to descend. The phone is their only light, and she silently thanks the heavens that its battery is more than half full. Without it, they'd have to wait until this shitty motel got the power restored to continue to go down the stairway (going without a light would be practically asking for injury), and God knows how long that would take. She stumbles a few times, but doesn't fall. However, Finn's never had exceptional balance, and since Santana's using the majority of the light to help her see, he misses a step and topples forward. He brings her down with him, both of them crying out in surprise at their sudden loss of stability. Luckily, they had been nearing the bottom of the flight of stairs, so they didn't fall anything more than a few feet. However, she doesn't notice anything other than Finn's crushing weight on top of her when they land.

Santana curses, and shoves him off her with strength she didn't know she had.

"You asshole! Why the fuck did you do that? Get your arm off me! I cannot believe the _trouble_ I went to _just_ to deflower you." She huffs and stands up, dusting herself off.

In the fall, his cell phone has broken, snapped in half with the screen cracked severely. He picks it up and tries to turn it on, but to no avail. She knocks it out of his hand, asking him crossly if he _really_ thought it was going to turn on after such a devastating blow. Their only source of light is broken.

She silently reminds herself that, if she ever sees a jock that needs to have his virginity removed again, to just let nature take it's course. He'll get laid eventually. She need not intervene if it's only going to cause her trouble like this has.

They continue down the stairs, Santana cursing and Finn mourning his busted phone the entire way down.

She doesn't stop cursing him until they're at the front desk. It takes them a good five minutes to inch their way through the dark. A tiny amount of natural light comes in through the windows in the lobby and she can see the person sitting behind the desk. Santana throws the key at the middle-aged woman with more force than she's ever thrown anything before.

"I am _never_ coming here again," she spits nastily. Finn stands behind her wordlessly as she cusses out the bewildered woman rapidly, her hateful words almost blurring together. Because of company policy, the woman can only nod, take the key, and wish her a good night.

"It wasn't her fault-" he begins in the employee's defense.

"Shut up! Come on. I'm starving and you're still going to get me that burger." Her rumbling stomach is the only noise to be heard other than the rain falling relentlessly outside. She's hell-bent on getting a burger tonight. She hasn't had anything since lunch, and goddamn it if she isn't getting something to eat soon.

* * *

The parking lot is deserted. The rain makes the ground shine with a gold color from the single streetlight overhead. The heavy storm has ceased its attack on Lima, and has become a mere drizzle. There can't be more than four other cars in the lot, and Santana's sure that most of them must be employees, because no one in their right mind should ever choose to stay here for an extended period of time.

She uses her jacket as an umbrella as they walk to the car. She hadn't anticipated rain. It's certainly not improving her day. They reach the car and she looks at it closely in order to identify it through the night. She climbs in as soon as it's unlocked. Santana hates the rain almost as much as she hates the dark. She sits in the passenger seat and rolls her eyes as he turns the key and starts the car hesitantly.

"I haven't really ever driven in the rain before…" he murmurs unsurely. Even if it is but a drizzle, he has never driven with anything obstructing his view (other than that mailman he hit when he was just starting driving lessons).

"Just drive," she orders him coldly. She can't drive just yet, and _maybe_ she should be grateful she has a ride in the first place, but the only thing she can think of right now is how her expensive new shoes have not been waterproofed.

He presses down on the gas and pulls out of that god-forsaken motel parking lot. The rain has picked up again, and he can't see more than a few feet ahead of him. He doesn't have a lot of driving experience and he's scared out of his wits, but he keeps going because he knows Santana will kill him if he stops to wait until the rain is over.

"You got anything to eat around here?" she rummages through his cluttered glove compartment as her stomach nosily protests its lack of food once more. She pulls out a couple of outdated maps his mom has given him for navigating the roads of Lima, along with a first aid kit with a crack in it's plastic, red-crossed box. Panic fills him as he tries to stop her from invading his personal belongings, but, alas, he is too late.

She chuckles derisively when she also pulls out several condoms. The cheap kind. Well, she really can't say she's surprised. She holds them up, and she's pretty sure he reddens with embarrassment once he sees what she's laughing about.

"Why the hell do you have these in your car?" she asks incredulously. She's not good at hiding the fact that she is, at the moment, highly amused.

He shrugs and casts his eyes downward.

"I…it's always good to be prepared," he supplies lamely. She cackles loudly – something she hasn't done in a long time. He glares at her, and she laughs harder. He can't glare menacingly to save his life. He only ends up looking like a five year old trying to be scary, "Give them back, Santana."

Her smile runs away and she refuses. Santana Lopez will not be ordered around by anyone.

"Why? Afraid that you won't be _prepared_?" she questions mockingly. She hasn't acted childishly in so long. It feels good. So, so good.

In Cheerios, excessive smiling is not tolerated. Joking around and acting immature is not tolerated. They are expected to focus on the routines and only the routines. She's been serious and mean so much lately that it feels absolutely wonderful to be behaving in such a juvenile manner.

"I'm not kidding," he reaches for them and in doing so, takes one hand off the steering wheel. She holds them just out of his reach. He's not looking at the road, even though a little voice in the back of his head tells him that he should be. They remain like that for a few moments, with Santana laughing at him scornfully and Finn reaching across the car. He's so focused on getting his protection back that he almost doesn't hear Santana screech.

"Look out!" He swerves off the road and hits a large puddle of water. It flies up on the windshield and now he can't see thorough the wet windshield at all. He can't control the car. He grabs the wheel firmly with both hands and pushes on the brake, and wills the car to halt. As he struggles to regain control, Santana's holding on for dear life and yelling at him.

He can hear parts of what she's saying ("_Look out! How hard is it to drive a fucking car? I can't believe this!_"), but otherwise he's totally frozen with terror.

He's too young to die. He's never really been outside Lima. He hasn't seen everything he wants to see, hasn't done everything he wants to do…

Suddenly, he realizes that the car has stopped. He's not exactly sure where, but they've stopped. They both breathe a sigh of relief, but the calm lasts for exactly two seconds before she starts yelling at him.

"Oh my God! Why the hell does this shit always happen to me?" Well, that's not really true. She's never had anything like this happen before. But she's mad, and Finn's not doing anything to make it better. All he's doing is sitting there and looking terrified. Like he had been in bed about twenty minutes before.

Useless. That's what he is, she decides. Absolutely useless.

Santana can tell that they're in a ditch by the way that the car is tilting when she leans her weight to another side of the seat.

"Don't just sit there! Go and see if you can get us out of this fucking ditch!" He scrambles to unbuckle himself and opens the door of the car. And just to make his job even easier, it's still raining a great deal.

He gets out and promptly stumbles into a puddle of mud. The bottoms of his jeans are filthy now, and his shoes are a mess, but he soldiers on. Once he regains his balance, he proceeds to try to push the car out. Using ever fiber of his strength, he pushes himself against the car. As he suspected prior to his attempt, though, it is unsuccessful. Strong as he is, he can't move a car. Especially not a car stuck in the mud, immobilized by the saturated dirt.

Soaked to the bone, he sticks his head back into the car and informs Santana that the car's stuck and that they won't be able to get out for a while. She growls, mutters, and then curses at him before finally speaking clearly.

"I'm getting out. We'll move it together. Can't be that hard to move a crap car like yours…" she gets out and is a little more lucky in the mud department than Finn had been. She escapes with only one soiled shoe as they both force themselves against the car with all their might. It goes forward slightly, as if teasing them by giving them false hope that they _are_ moving it, but not enough to help push it out of the ditch. They give up after five minutes of strain and fall against the car, tired from the exertion of trying to move something so weighty.

"Well, do you have roadside assistance?" he asks, trying to make light of the shitty situation they're in now with an unfortunate joke.

"What do you _think_, dumbass! And even if I did, my phone's at home and yours is broken from when you fell on top of me, so we couldn't call them! Unbelievable!" This is the most screwed up night she's had in a long time, and she's had some pretty fucked up nights. She's sopping wet, her stomach is growling, and they have no way of getting any help other then waiting here for someone to come looking or hitchhiking. She's not going to sink low enough to hitchhike.

She's going to at least preserve her dignity if she can't preserve her appearance.

Santana starts walking away from the car once she chooses a third option: walk to the nearest building. She stumbles over the uneven and muddy ground next to the road but is able to keep herself from falling.

"Where are you going?" he calls after her. She must be insane if she thinks that they'll be able to _walk_ to find help. They're kind of far from any store or anything (Santana had wanted to go as far away from their lives as she could to deflower him), and walking in the rain to find a phone or burger joint will not be a pleasant experience for either of them.

"I'm walking. I'm getting a burger, dammit. No one's going to come and find us here, Hudson. We have to go to the help," she yells back. A sudden crash on thunder follows her words and muffles them, but Finn gets the message. He grabs a few things from the car and dashes off after Santana, who's now a good distance ahead of him. The rain blows against him as he runs, and blurs his vision. He can make out a moving shape just a few yards a head of him that he identifies as Santana.

* * *

When he catches up to her, she acts annoyed by his presence, when in truth, she's glad to have someone to walk with, even if it is Finn of all people. He's muscular, and good protection if someone tries to abduct her or something.

They follow the road and try not to trip or step into the puddles that litter the sodden earth. Out here, the dark seems ten thousand times worse to her. The moon is their guide, and it doesn't give off nearly enough light for her. The downpour once again becomes a drizzle, but now a chilling wind blows through the town in the aftermath of the rainstorm. Both Santana and Finn shiver. She isn't much warmer with a jacket than Finn is without one.

Wet, cold, tired, hungry. Those four feelings combined make a person's life hell. The two of them are no exception, and both are shaking and soaking wet. Her stomach constantly bugs her with its incessant pleas for food. Her feet beseech her to rest. Her body implores her for warmth. She wants nothing more than to change into a pair of nice, dry pajamas and sit down and eat a burger near a fire. She doesn't think she's ever wanted anything more in her life.

"I'm resting here," she declares once she sees a tree stump sitting alone on the roadside with the assistance of the moonlight. She sits down on it and hugs herself tightly. Her teeth chattering, she speaks once more, "T-this is a-all your fa-fault. I try to h-help you an-and all I get is t-this. I'm s-starving and wet an-and cold. I-if you had never fal-fallen on t-t-top of me, we'd have a ph-phone and we c-could call fo-for help." She's accustomed to placing the blame on other people, and she isn't about to admit to herself that perhaps it's more her doing then Finn's.

He looks at her and sees, if only for a fleeting moment, someone other than the tough, mean Santana Lopez he's seen at school. Her hair is stringy as it dries off, and her clothes are still very damp. But he only spots it for a moment before the vulnerability is gone and she's back to yelling at him.

"If you hadn't b-been so _stupid_ and-and wrecked the goddamn c-car-" she's about to finish when he finally gets the gall to interrupt her.

"Hey, y-you think I m-meant for this to h-happen?" He's able to keep the stutter out of his voice for the most part. She looks up at him with wide eyes that are threatening yet intriguing. She narrows them and stands so she doesn't have to look up so much as she argues with him.

"You practically _begged_ me to t-take your virginity," she hisses at his shuddering form. Her words are heavy with the lies in them.

"We b-both know that's n-not true," he counters bravely, surprising Santana and himself as he lets the words out. She isn't happy with his statement but doesn't protest it.

"T-this damn well better he-help my image in the end," she says, a scowl etched on her features. She stands up and exhales, "We should keep walking." He nods and once again falls into his place behind her. He's pretty much reconciled himself to the idea that it's far better if she leads and he follows.

They walk. And walk. And walk. The road back to civilization seems interminable but both know that, as long as they follow it, they'll find something. They exchange no words. The only thing Santana says is a curse when she narrowly avoids a gigantic, lake- like puddle left over from the heavy shower. Her shoes are beyond repair now. It's far too late. So Santana mourns her shoes and Finn mourns his phone, and they walk until a colorful light far off in the distance catches her eye.

"There's a light," she's already shown far too many emotions today and she dare not betray another one. However, his face breaks into a childlike smile. She makes her eyes stay on it, half suspecting that it is a mirage of some sort and that it will just disappear all at once. But as they come closer and closer at an increasingly fast and eager pace, the orange light remains. Eventually, they can make out the front of what looks to be a diner. Maybe she's just imagining it but she swears she can smell a burger cooking in the kitchen, waiting for her. Soon, they reach the diner and walk inside the door. It's late at night, and the diner is one of the only buildings still open at this ungodly hour.

* * *

One waitress stands around the diner and wipes the crumbs off tables slowly, as if she is just stalling to get to the end of her shift and go home. She's short and stout, and has red-gold hair that forms a halo around a pudgy face littered with wrinkles. Her head turns when she hears the little bell on the door jingle.

"You two look like you've been eaten and spit out," she observes frankly. Santana rolls her eyes and frowns.

"We're here to order some food." Finn stands beside her. He's almost as desperate for nourishment as she is at this point. The waitress shakes her head.

"It's just 'bout closing time, honey. Come back tomorrow."

Santana will not take no for an answer now. She steps forward boldly and opens her mouth to talk.

"Look, lady. I've fallen down stairs, been in a car crash, and walked in the rain for the past _several hours _to get here. I'm starving, and I am damn well going to get a burger whether you like it, or not," she never takes her eyes of the woman while she speaks convincingly. The waitress scowls, but doesn't reinforce their closing time.

"What do you want?" she asks them. The woman takes out a pad from her apron and produces a pen from another pocket. She does it so unthinkingly, and with such speed that to Finn it almost looks like a magic trick.

"I don't care. Just get me a burger," Santana snaps frostily. At this point, any burger will do. She isn't allergic to anything, so she doesn't have to worry about eating something and having some sort of freakish reaction to it. The waitress looks at her sharply and walks away.

Finn walks over to a nearby booth and sits down. Santana takes a seat across from him, recoiling when she sets her hand on a sticky spot on the table.

"Wait, I didn't get to order," he tells her. The waitress is no longer in earshot and Santana doesn't make an effort to call her back. She honestly doesn't care what he wants at this moment. She's beyond caring about anyone other than herself.

"So, did you like it?" Her attempts at casual conversation always turn out terribly wrong. Nevertheless, she opens her mouth because, sometimes, she thinks that uncomfortable silence is worse than uncomfortable conversation.

"The car crash?" he pauses and looks at her oddly for a second, "…Not really that much. My car's stuck in the mud now and-"

"Not that, you idiot. The sex," she smirks flirtatiously and purposefully enunciates her last word. He stiffens and clears his throat awkwardly. He wishes he had a menu so he won't have to look her in the eyes and talk to her.

"It was all right, I guess."

'_All right'_ is not good enough for Santana. She wants the best; demands the best. She won't be called mediocre.

"What do you know anyway?" Her question is rhetorical, and her eyes make it clear that any answer of his is not welcome. Finn's smart enough to sense this, so he doesn't reply.

Her food arrives and she tears into it like she hasn't eaten in a week. Normally, if she weren't ravenously hungry, she would take small, measured bites and eat slowly. But now, even in front of a guy, she doesn't care. She takes a huge bite and chews speedily before cramming more of the burger into her mouth. She's not sure what it has on it. All she knows is that she's never savored any food this much.

Meanwhile, Finn orders and eats greedily when his meal comes to the table. Santana orders another burger, and then another when her insatiable appetite is still not fulfilled. She feels like a bottomless pit. She's sure she's going to gain a couple pounds, but it's fine, she figures, because she'll just drink some of Coach Sylvester's cleansing shit later.

When she bites into her third burger, Finn looks at her with a sort of awe on his face.

"I never knew a girl could eat that much," he muses thoughtfully whilst looking at the Cheerio sitting across from him. He'd never dreamed that he'd ever see someone like Santana soaking wet, sitting across from him in a crappy diner, and eating a burger as if the world is about to end. She rolls her eyes and continues chewing. She'll slap him for the veiled insult later. Right now, she's just going to devour the food like it's the last she'll ever have.

He pays the bill (Finn, miraculously, remembered to bring his wallet with him from the car) when it comes. They stand, and Santana walks over to him calmly before slapping him on his face. Hard. He places his hand on the stringing area in utter shock.

"Why'd you do that?" he asks, his voice rising.

"That was for the comment about me eating." She raises her hand to deliver another harsh slap, "That was for crashing the car and making me fall down stairs." And finally, her hand attacks his cheek once more, "And that is to ensure that you _never_ tell anyone about tonight." He nods fearfully, preparing himself for another assault on his face. When nothing arrives, he opens his eyes to look at Santana, "If you ever tell anyone, Hudson, it will be the end of you." Finn looks at her with pained eyes, but says nothing. She sighs before talking:

"You damn well better hope there's a phone here because I am _not_ walking any more."

* * *

**Note**: That was my first attempt at writing humor, (or something like it) and while it may not be side splittingly funny, I enjoyed writing it.

I'll get back to working on my multi-chapter fic now. Thanks for reading!


End file.
